


The Last Night of the World

by fourth_rose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Double Penetration, First Time, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, written before book 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-26
Updated: 2009-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourth_rose/pseuds/fourth_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Babysitting two moping teenagers in the Order's safehouse should have been an easy assignment, but nothing is easy on the eve of the final battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Night of the World

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written before the publication of "Deathly Hallows" and is therefore not compliant with book 7-canon.  
> Thanks to melusinahp for the beta!

If Tonks had ever tried to imagine the eve of the final battle, she definitely wouldn't have pictured herself lying naked on a huge four-poster bed in number twelve, Grimmauld Place, staring at the shadows cast by the flickering candles and waiting for a knock on the door. Yet here she is, although she's not quite sure how she managed to get herself into this.

 

It should have been an easy assignment, and she still wonders if that was the reason she was picked for it. Shacklebolt likes her, but she can't help feeling that he doesn't fully trust her abilities to hold her own in a serious fight. Therefore, instead of being out there hunting down Death Eaters with the other Aurors, she's been trapped in this huge old house for weeks, with nothing to do but baby-sit two moping teenagers who happen to be crucial to the outcome of the war.

 

In fact, Draco Malfoy hasn't been moping all that much. He has never said so, but she suspects that he's actually rather glad of the safety this house offers after the year he spent on the run from both Voldemort and the Order. The only thing he ever asks for is news of his mother; Tonks wishes there was something more she could tell him other than the fact that Narcissa Malfoy is still missing. She has never met the woman, but Narcissa _is_ her Mum's sister, and the look of desperate yearning on Draco's face when he talks about his mother makes her heart ache. On the other hand, she reckons Draco is extremely lucky to be still alive. He has even been guaranteed a full pardon in exchange for the information he has to give. It's the reason he is here now in the safest place the Order has to offer – he will be needed in the end, when it is time to attack Malfoy Manor. Voldemort's followers have made their headquarters there since Draco's mother disappeared, and no-one else on either side knows the place like he does. He seems to understand this, and most of the time he takes the prolonged confinement in stride, although he's become more and more impatient and snappish lately.

 

Harry, on the other hand, reminds her of a caged animal. She still doesn't know exactly what he told Shacklebolt when the new leader of the Order of the Phoenix informed him that he was planning to keep Harry away from the fighting until the end because they just couldn't afford to lose him. Rumour has it there were several epic shouting matches before Harry was finally forced to give in. Things went from bad to worse when the last of Voldemort's Horcruxes was found and destroyed just over two months ago. Now that the war had reached its final stage, the Order felt Harry had to be safely locked away to make sure that he'd be whole and available once he was needed to fulfil the prophecy. She's slightly disgusted by the idea that a boy of eighteen is basically being treated like a weapon that has to be safely stored until it is needed, but she understands there's probably no other way. She knows Harry will never see it that way, though. During the first weeks, he flew into fits of rage at every opportunity; by now, the violent anger has been replaced with brooding resentment. Still, everything he says and does broadcasts how much he hates being locked up like this, with nothing to do but wait for the day when he'll be called to kill the Dark Lord or die trying.

 

Tonks feels a desperate, almost painful kind of pity for him whenever she allows her thoughts to stray in that direction; it's more than anyone should ever have a right to ask from a boy of his age, a boy who has already known so much sorrow and so little happiness in his life. Whenever she looks at him, she feels overcome with frustration and powerless fury. She wants to reach out towards him, to hold him, comfort him and promise to keep him safe, even if she knows it's not within her ability to do so. Draco she can deal with; she's not unsympathetic towards his difficult situation, but he basically brought it upon himself. Harry has done nothing to deserve this.

 

Still, it should have been an easy assignment. On top of the Fidelius Charm that McGonagall performed with Tonks as the Secret Keeper, the house is warded with every kind of protective magic the Order knows about. They've had no contact with the world at large other than Shacklebolt's owls, and there hasn't been any trouble from outside during the weeks they have spent in hiding. Yes, easy indeed for a trained Auror – if it hadn't been for the fact that Harry and Draco were constantly at each other's throats.

 

She'd known that these two had been enemies at school and that Draco's role in Dumbledore's death had made matters worse, but she'd nevertheless underestimated the intensity of their mutual hatred. They seemed unable to be in the same room for more than a minute without getting into a fight, and as time progressed and everyone's patience wore thin, the fights became more and more violent. When talking didn't help, Tonks finally came up with the idea of a combat training program that would allow them to put all that hateful energy to good use. Ever since, she's been making them fight each other magically and physically under her watchful guidance every day. It seems to have helped a bit, if only because they're usually both dead on their feet afterwards.

 

Not tonight, though.

 

_Tonks,_

_We're ready. This letter's seal is a Portkey that will activate at 9  a.m. tomorrow. Make sure the three of you are touching it together; it will take each of you to the place where you're needed. You will receive further information upon your arrival._

_K. Shacklebolt_

 

The owl found them in the living room which they always use for their sparring sessions. For a while, they all just stared at the letter, dumbfounded. They'd been awaiting this for weeks, but it still felt strangely surreal to realize that at this time tomorrow, the war would be over – one way or the other.

 

Then Harry looked up from the letter, locked eyes with Draco for just a second, and took a swing at him that sent Draco crashing against the wall. He was back on his feet in a heartbeat, though, and retaliated in kind. Tonks finally had to physically pry them apart before they killed each other. They stood on opposite sides of the room afterwards, both panting and avoiding not only each other's gazes, but hers too. The air seemed thick with a kind of tension that made it hard for her to breathe, and suddenly she felt she couldn't take it any more. She turned around on her heel and fled the room.

 

She can't help wondering what would have happened if she'd stayed. She has forbidden herself these kinds of thoughts during the previous weeks, but now, with the final battle just hours away, she feels her defences crumble. She's been trying hard to ignore the way they both look at her sometimes, pretending not to notice Harry's double-take at seeing her walk into the kitchen in her bathrobe or Draco's eyes drifting down from her face whenever he's talking to her. They're merely overgrown boys, after all, it's natural that they would be bursting with pent-up frustration and hormones. She, however, is a grown woman and capable of keeping a cool head.

 

_Yeah, right._ Apart from the time when she walked in on Draco while he was shaving in the bathroom, and it took her a week to banish the image of his bare chest from her mind because the memory did funny things to her lower regions. Then there was the morning when Harry showed up in a t-shirt that he must have outgrown three years ago, which caused her to think that his shoulders really had no business being so broad all of a sudden because the sight made her a bit weak at the knees. One time she heard Harry draw in a sharp breath when she tried to sneak a glance at the book he was reading and her breast brushed his arm, and she jumped back as if she'd been burned – yes, that has probably been the most convincing show of maturity and aloofness on her part so far.

 

_Damn it all. We may all be dead tomorrow anyway. _Something is bound to happen; she's been certain since the moment she squeezed herself between the two of them today, and she's not going to fight it any more. That's why she went to her bedroom, lit the candles, stripped and snuggled under the covers to wait for a knock on the door that she _knows_ is going to come. The only thing she still wonders about is which one of the two it is going to be.

 

She's only half-surprised when it's Draco.

 

 

+++

 

 

He's only wearing pyjama bottoms, and the sight of his naked chest brings back memories from that morning in the bathroom. He doesn't say anything, just looks at her for a moment, and when she keeps quiet too, he's at her bedside in three long steps and slips under the covers with her. Tonks turns to face him, but before she even realizes what he's about to do, his mouth is on hers.

 

Every preconception of him as an overgrown child she may have had is gone within a heartbeat. He's obviously much more experienced than she gave him credit for, and he kisses her like he doesn't want to leave the slightest doubt who's in charge. Tonks feels herself surrendering before she thinks about it; she lets him take the lead, revelling in the almost brutal intensity of his kiss and responding in kind. One of his hands is on her breast, stroking her with firm, confident movements. There's a jolt of sensation deep in her belly when the nail of his thumb grazes her nipple, and she lets her hands slide down to the waistband of his pyjamas, slipping her hands under it and pushing the fabric down over his hips. Then the hot skin of his hard cock is pressed against her thigh, and she reaches down to touch him just as boldly as he's touching her. He groans into her mouth, but then quickly covers her hand with his and pushes it away.

 

Before she's recovered from her surprise, he has flung the covers aside and is busy kissing his way down her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin between kisses. Tonks can't keep herself from gasping when his lips close around her nipple and his tongue does something delicious to the hard nub. Then his mouth is on her stomach, and lower still; she eagerly spreads her legs wide to let him settle between them, her mind focused on nothing but that wicked mouth and those firm, strong hands. He's none too gentle with her, and that's perhaps what she enjoys most – after her failed relationship with Remus, she never wants another lover in her life who will treat her like a fragile china doll that might break if gripped too tightly. Draco clearly has no such qualms. Tonks cries out, although mostly in surprise, when he pushes both his thumbs into her, his splayed fingers pressing against her damp skin and holding her open, and then his mouth is on her, licking and sucking the slick flesh while his thumbs press deeper inside. She lets her head fall back and stops thinking about anything but the things his hands, lips, and tongue are doing to her, the wet heat in her groin and the staccato of her heartbeat in her ears. She comes quickly, her body tightening and clenching in waves of pure bliss that sweeps aside any lingering doubts. This is _right_, is everything she's been desperately waiting for, and not even the Dark Lord himself is going to take the promise of this night away from her.

 

When she calms down, her breath still laboured and the air in the room cool against her sweaty skin, he's hovering over her, his elbows propped up on either side of her hips and a self-satisfied smirk on his face, as if he were waiting for her assessment of his performance.

 

She does her best to smirk back. "I clearly wasted my time in the wrong House, if this is what you learned during your time in Slytherin."

 

He gives her a one-shouldered shrug, trying a bit too hard to appear blasé about the left-handed praise. "Pansy was quite demanding."

 

"Seems I owe her one, if she taught you to go down on a girl like this." Tonks considers offering to return the favour, but she's suddenly too impatient to fool around any more. "Come here."

 

In one swift movement, he's on top of her; she wraps her hands around his neck and hooks her heels behind his calves, revelling in the feeling of his skin against hers, his weight on her as he pushes inside. Again, there's nothing tender about him; this is no slow, gentle lovemaking, but rough, harsh fucking, and Tonks loves every second of it. It's a far cry from all her previous sexual encounters – she's always gone for friendly, considerate, caring men, and for the first time she wonders whether she's been wasting her time until now if an eighteen-year old boy can make her feel like this. The sound of his harsh panting is filling the room, and she notices how his shoulders tense under her hands each time he thrusts into her. She doubts that he's going to last long, but she doesn't care. She's about to tell him that he needn't hold back for her sake, that she can't wait to see, to feel him climax inside her, when he suddenly lowers his head and breathlessly whispers in her ear, "Tonks, are you aware that Potter is watching us?"

 

Her heads snaps around at this, and she sees for herself that he's right – the door is slightly ajar, and there's Harry standing on the threshold, his eyes huge and his expression unreadable. Tonks wants to say something, to reach out to him in some way, but in that instant, Draco's body goes rigid against hers, and he comes with a strangled groan. She watches his face contort as if in pain and holds him tight, riding out the spasms with him, and she can't believe how much it turns her on to know that Harry is witnessing this. She knows it's wrong, but it feels so perfectly _right_, and whatever happens now, she's determined never to regret it.

 

Only when Draco pulls out and rolls off her does she turn back to the door where Harry is still standing as if petrified. "Harry, it's okay to come in if you want to."

 

He steps over the threshold, but seems hesitant. He's not looking at her but at Draco who is now stretched out beside her and appears completely unabashed, although Tonks can feel his rapid pulse in the arm he has draped around her waist.

 

Draco is still breathing hard, but manages to sneer at Harry nevertheless. "I never pegged you for a voyeur, Potter."

 

Harry blushes, probably more from anger than embarrassment. "I wasn't – I mean, I didn't know you'd be..."

 

"Harry," Tonks interrupts him gently and pats the bed beside her, "come here." He eyes her warily as she pulls the bedcovers up – she doesn't feel ashamed, but it's rather cool in the room – but obediently sits down on the bedside. "I'm really sorry, Tonks, I'd never have –"

 

"It's okay, Harry," she repeats and reaches for his hand; he lets her take it, but it remains limp in her grasp. "I'm sure you'd never have come here if you'd known. But tell me, why _did_ you come?"

 

He looks away, and it's the only answer she needs.

 

Draco, however, still seems unable to keep his mouth shut. "Come to learn a few things, Potter? I've been wondering how long it would take before you became sick of being a virgin."

 

Tonks slaps his thigh under the covers without taking her eyes off Harry, who's blushing again. "Shush, you. I don't care how the two of you feel about each other outside this room, but there will be no fighting in my bed, do you hear me?"

 

Draco lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine, fine, I'll play nicely."

 

She gives Harry's hand a gentle squeeze, carefully weighing her words. "Harry – he's being a complete prat about it, but he's right, isn't he?"

 

"Almost," Harry murmurs; he's still not looking at her. "It was just the one time, during sixth year. Ginny – I mean, we wanted to give it a try, but..." He remains quiet for a moment, then adds in a strangely resigned tone, "I don't think she enjoyed it very much."

 

He seems utterly miserable, and Tonks is torn between the wish to hug him and the desire to tear his clothes off and ravish him on the spot. "It's fine, Harry, first times tend to go wrong. Would you like to give it another try?"

 

The blunt question clearly isn't what he expected, and he hesitates, although he's at least facing her again. "Tonks, you don't have to just because –"

 

"No, Harry," she interrupts him firmly, "I'm not trying to do you a favour." _I'm not offering you a last fuck because you may be about to get killed._ She doesn't say it aloud, but she hopes the message is clear. "I want this. I've wanted it for quite a while, and I think you have too."

 

He doesn't say anything, but when she sits up and draws him closer, he comes into her arms without hesitation. He may be inexperienced, but his kiss is sweet and tender; he lets her set the pace, his lips and tongue following her lead as she deepens the kiss. Her hands are busy with the buttons of his shirt, and he makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat when she touches the bare skin of his chest. It turns into a groan when her fingers brush over the wiry hair on his stomach and reach for the button of his jeans; within a moment, he has opened it himself and pushed his jeans down together with his underpants. Tonks gets a fleeting glimpse of his flushed cock standing out in strange contrast against the black hair and the paler skin of his stomach before he steps out of his jeans and pants and slips under the covers beside her. She reaches down to touch him, eager for the feeling of his cock in her palm, but his hand on her arm stops her. "Don't – I don't want this to be over so soon."

 

"Come on, Potter." Draco has snuggled against Tonks' back and tightened his grip around her waist; she can't see his face in that position, but she can _hear_ that he's smirking. "It's not as if you won't be ready for another go in ten minutes."

 

Tonks chuckles at this. "Remind me why I ever dated anyone over twenty."

 

Finally, Harry is smiling too, and Tonks inwardly breathes a sigh of relief. She feels his hands on her breasts, and he leans closer and whispers, "Teach me how to touch you."

 

She takes his hands and guides him, slowly and languidly, along the curves of her body, his fingers leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. After a while, she lets her hands slide up to his shoulders and closes her eyes, content to hold on to him and enjoy the sensation of his hands on her skin. His touch is gentle and a little shy as his fingers brush over the curly hair between her legs, and she feels like she's melting from the slow, sensual sweetness of it.

 

She's utterly unprepared for his hand to suddenly reach lower in one swift, fluid movement, and her eyes fly open when two fingers push into her while the heel of his hand grinds down in a way that makes her gasp. He begins stroking her in a steady, unhurried rhythm, and it takes her a moment to realize that it's not just Harry who's touching her now, but that Draco has covered Harry's hand with his and is directing his movements. She feels Draco's mouth on the side of her neck while Harry leans in to kiss her again, and it sends a shiver through her when she realizes that the fingers curling inside her belong to either of them. It doesn't take much more to send her over the edge, and she moans against Harry's lips and clenches her thighs around their hands as her orgasm washes over her in hot, pulsing waves. They keep stroking her until she relaxes and opens her eyes; Harry's face is flushed and his eyes a bit glazed, and his hard cock presses against her thigh while she feels Draco's snug against her buttocks. A sudden idea crosses her mind, but she pushes it aside for the time being; she doesn't want to rush anything tonight.

 

Harry's hands are back on her breasts, and he slowly circles her nipples with his thumbs while he whispers in her ear, "Tonks, can I ask you something?"

 

She's been expecting this; everyone she has ever slept with has asked sooner or later. "It's about the shape-shifting, right?"

 

"Umm... yes." He hesitates, clearly searching for the right words. "Do you ever change your appearance for –?"

 

"For sex? Not really. I prefer it when my partner wants to sleep with me, not with some enhanced version." She concentrates for a moment. "Doesn't mean I don't make small adjustments sometimes, of course." Harry's eyes go wide when her breasts begin to swell under his hands, and she gives him a wicked grin. "Like these?"

 

He studies her breasts that are no longer smallish and soft like before, but well-rounded and taut under his touch; there's a small frown on his forehead when he answers, "They're very nice, but to be honest, I like yours better."

 

She presses a quick kiss on his lips. "Thank you. It's a real nuisance trying to hold a different shape during sex, anyway – it's awfully distracting, and the sensations are all wrong."

 

Her breasts have returned to their natural shape now, but there seems to be something else on Harry's mind. "I'm just curious, but how much can you actually change? Have you ever – you know, tried to become someone completely different?"

 

She gives him a dirty grin. "You mean, have I ever tried it as a bloke? Of course, I wanted to know what it's like having a dick, but I haven't done more than wanking in that shape. I can't imagine enjoying sex in a body that's sending all the wrong signals to my brain." The strange expression on Harry's face makes her uneasy, and she tries to lighten the mood a bit. "So if you'd like to be fucked, I'm afraid I'm not up to the job, but I'm sure Draco will do you the favour if you ask nicely." She expects a spluttering protest from Harry and a laugh from Draco that will break the sudden tension, but she's wrong on both counts. She feels Draco draw in a sharp breath and tense up against her back, while Harry blushes crimson and looks away.

 

It's obvious that she has somehow managed to put her foot in her mouth, and she quickly changes tack. "Harry, you're not here to chat with me. Come here, I've waited long enough." She wraps her arms around his neck and tries to draw him closer while she lies back, but he resists.

 

"No, not like this." He puts an arm around her waist and rolls over, taking her with him so that she's on top of him; the message _I want you to be in control_ couldn't be clearer. Tonks feels her throat constrict at the unbidden thought that this might just be the last time he can ever let anyone else take the lead, and she wonders whether that's what made him choose this position. His cock is straining towards her as she straddles his hips, and she reaches down to run her fingers along his shaft while she positions herself. His eyes close, and he bites his lower lip as if it were utterly important to remain quiet while she slowly sinks down on his cock. His hands come up to grasp her hips, and she holds on to his wrists and starts moving at an unhurried pace, giving him time to adjust to the feeling of being inside her. "Is this okay?"

 

He nods, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Feels so good…"

 

Remembering his earlier warning, she takes care to keep the rhythm slow and steady. His head falls back, and she has to resist the urge to lean forward and nip his exposed throat with her teeth. She doesn't think she's ever heard anything sexier than the small, soft sounds he makes each time he exhales; he's moving with her, pushing up his hips to meet her when she bears down on him, but he still seems content to leave her in charge. It seems fitting somehow that his way of making love to her should be the exact opposite of Draco's. The thought makes her tear her eyes away from his face and look to her side where Draco is lying and watching them through half-closed eyes.

 

He appears utterly relaxed; his head is propped up on one hand, and his other hand is curled around his cock, stroking leisurely. There wasn't much time to really look at him before, but now her eyes rake over his body, taking in the pale skin that seems to glow in the light of the candles, the smooth chest, narrow hips and long, lean limbs. There's a  faint white scar running down from the hollow of his throat to his chest and lower still to where it disappears in the fuzzy blond trail below his navel. She has no idea how he got it and finds herself hoping that she'll one day get the chance to ask him about it.

 

Her gaze keeps returning to the hand on his cock; he has beautiful hands, narrow and graceful, and watching him touch himself with those elegant fingers makes her remember the wicked things they did to her not twenty minutes ago. With Harry slowly thrusting into her, it's almost too much to bear. She knows Harry isn't going to last if she quickens the pace, but it's just not enough like this, and when Draco's eyes finally meet hers, she reads the same raw desire in them and suddenly knows exactly what she wants.

 

"Don't you have anything better to do than play with yourself?" She's surprised how calm she sounds, how utterly in control when she feels so close to coming completely undone.

 

He raises an eyebrow. When he answers, she can tell he's trying his best to sound cool, but the slight hitch in his voice gives him away. "You two seem to be doing fine without me."

 

"And you're content to watch? I never pegged you for a voyeur."

 

The corner of his mouth quirks up at his own jibe being thrown back at him. "What would you like me to do, then?"

 

Tonks takes a deep breath and leans forward until she's pressed flush against Harry's chest. Harry whimpers and digs his fingers into her hips, trying to pull her even closer; she feels his heartbeat hammer against her breasts and struggles to keep up the rhythm of their movements. She's not going to let him come yet, she needs this to last a little bit longer…

 

"Get behind me, Draco, I want you inside me." It feels strange to voice her desires so bluntly, but he complies immediately and kneels down right behind her between Harry's thighs. Still, there's hesitation in his tone for the first time when he asks, "You mean – from the other side?"

 

Tonks ponders the possibility for a moment; she has never done this before, and it might be interesting, but she has something else in mind. "I mean I want you right where Harry is. Together with him."

 

She hears Draco's sharp intake of breath at the same time that Harry's eyes snap open and stare at her. "Are you serious?" There's a tremor in his voice she can't interpret, so she kisses him softly and whispers, "Just trust me, Harry."

 

Draco seems doubtful, too. "I don't want to hurt you."

 

She remembers the way he pounded into her before and feels oddly touched by his concern; she wonders whether she should remind him that their two cocks together are still a far cry from the size of a baby's head, but she decides it might be something of a mood-killer. "Don't worry about me. I'm a bit more adaptable in that department than other women, remember?"

 

"Right." He sounds deliciously out of breath, and it's all the proof she needs that he's not averse to the suggestion. Tonks waits impatiently while he positions himself; she feels slick and wet and utterly relaxed, and there's hardly any discomfort when he enters her. Harry has stopped moving, and his eyes go wide when Draco slowly pushes forward, stretching her to the limit. The expression on his face and Draco's shaky "Oh my God" leave no doubt how it feels for them to have their cocks squeezed together like this, and Tonks can't remember ever having been this turned on before. She braces her hands and knees against the mattress, but Draco's weight on her is still pressing her against Harry. She doesn't think he'll be able to move like this, but his hips buck up when Draco stops pushing forward, burying his cock deeper inside her as Draco's pulls back. It seems impossible, but they somehow manage to find a rhythm, their cocks sliding against each other inside her.

 

Draco's harsh breath is hot against Tonks' neck, and she hears Harry's moans through her own as she tries to stop thinking altogether, giving herself up to pure sensation. This is wrong on so many levels, but it's the most delicious thing she's ever experienced, and she wants to savour every moment of it. It's difficult to breathe squashed together like this, she's covered in sweat, and her arms are shaking from the exertion, yet her whole body seems to pulse with orgasmic pleasure. Of course, it doesn't last long; after just a few thrusts, Harry cries out and digs his nails into her hips as he comes. Draco's hips jerk forward at the sound, quickening the pace; he starts thrusting deep and hard when Harry's softening cock slips out of her, and Tonks pushes back against him, holding on to each second until he comes with a shudder and collapses against her back.

 

It takes them a while to sort themselves out. Finally, they huddle together under the covers, with Tonks in the middle and Harry's head nestled against her left shoulder, Draco's against her right. Harry's damp black hair is tickling her neck, and his hand is back on her breasts, his fingertips tracing slow patterns on her sweaty skin. Draco, still bolder than Harry, is idly running his fingers through the patch of curls between her legs while Tonks is playing with his hair. She has been curious for a while whether it's really as baby-soft as it looks; now she's pleased to find that it feels like silk to the touch, and she can't resist the temptation to pet it as if she were stroking a kitten.

 

She wishes she could bask in the quiet bliss forever, while the brutal reality seems far away and she feels safe and content. It's a lovely illusion, but it shatters all too quickly when Harry lifts his head and whispers, "Tonks?"

 

She turns her head to face him, dreading what he's going to say. Whatever it is, it will be about tomorrow, and the small bubble of temporary peace they have created around themselves will burst. Yet she wants him to ask if it makes him feel better; she wants to be there for him, to help him carry the burden he bears as best she can. "Yes?"

 

"Was this – I mean, what we just did... it isn't going to change anything, is it? Between us?"

 

Tonks breathes a sigh of relief; this, at least, is a small comfort she can give him. "Nothing is going to change, Harry. Tomorrow, we will still be friends like we were before, and that's what we'll remain after tomorrow, too."

 

He smiles at this, a smile that's heartbreaking in its sudden hopefulness at the quiet reassurance that there _will_ be a future after tomorrow. "That's good to know."

 

Now Draco is looking up too. "What about me?"

 

She grins and gives his hair a playful pull. "You want me to promise you that we'll remain friends?"

 

"Am I  your friend?" He seems almost surprised and oddly pleased by the suggestion.

 

Tonks' grin widens. "'Course you are, you git. Although strictly speaking you're family, but do you really want me to go into that while we're in bed together?"

 

"Not really." He gives her a suggestive wink. "There are much better things we could do in bed together, aren't there?"

 

Tonks shakes her head in mock astonishment. "Again? Clearly, I'd forgotten what it means to be eighteen."

 

Draco lies back and sighs softly. "Almost nineteen, actually."

 

"Your birthday's coming up? When?"

 

"Tomorrow."

 

It's Harry who answers the question, and Draco does a double-take at this; it's obvious he'd never have expected Harry to know his birthday, let alone to remember it now. His surprise only shows for a second, though, before he relaxes against Tonks' body once more. "Rotten timing, isn't it? But you can get me a present, Potter – I'd like the Dark Lord's head on a platter, if it isn't too much of an inconvenience."

 

"I'll do my best." Harry's tone is dry, but Tonks feels his shoulders tense under her arm.

 

"Shut up, both of you." She tries to make it sound flippant and fails utterly. "There will be no more talk about anything tomorrow-related, do you hear me?"

 

"Care to take our minds off things, then?" Draco's light tone is almost convincing, and she plays along gratefully.

 

"Give me a break, I'm a bit sore thanks to the two of you."

 

"Was your idea," Harry mutters against her skin, but it isn't lost on her that he's still taut as a bowstring.

 

Draco, however, gives her a smirk that's downright dirty. "Want me to kiss it better? Or I could teach Potter how to do it, I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

 

Harry just snorts, but Tonks can't help smirking back. "Stop fishing for compliments, you prat."

 

"If that's what I get for offering, why don't you tell me what you'd like me to do instead?"

 

Tonks opens her mouth to answer with another friendly jibe, but falls silent as a completely unexpected image pops up, unbidden, in her mind. Her surprise must have shown, because Draco is eyeing her curiously. "Tonks? Knut for your thoughts?"

 

"I..." Her mind is reeling as she's trying to understand how on earth she could even think about that, let alone consider...

 

"Come on, Tonks." Now Harry is looking at her too, his expression soft. "If there's anything you want, you can say it. There's not much any of us has to hide at this point, is there?"

 

_God, Harry, you have no idea how innocent you still are. _Tonks takes a deep breath, steeling herself; she feels her courage slip away, but she realizes she _does_ want this. Were this any other night, she'd keep quiet, but...

 

"I want to watch."

 

Harry just blinks, clearly not getting what she means, but from the way Draco's cheeks colour up, it's obvious _he_ understands. "You want to watch the two of us?"

 

Harry's eyes widen, and his face turns beet-red; Tonks holds her breath and hopes desperately that she has not completely misjudged their earlier behaviour. Harry seems neither appalled nor shocked, just totally stunned. Draco's expression is inscrutable and his tone carefully measured when he asks in his best nasal drawl, "Well, Potter, I believe the lady asked me to fuck you. Any objections?"

 

"What the hell?" Red spots are now appearing on Harry's neck and chest, too; he's moved away from Tonks' side as if he needed to distance himself from the whole exchange. "What gives you the idea that she wanted _you_ to fuck _me_, and not the other way round?"

 

"Because she's an intelligent woman and probably deduced that I'm much more likely than you to have any experience in the matter."

 

Harry gapes at him. "You've done this before? I thought you were straight!"

 

Draco shrugs. "Not straight enough to tell Blaise Zabini no when he offered. I doubt you'd be, either."

 

Harry deflates a bit. "I never thought about it."

 

"Liar." There's a clear challenge in Draco's level tone, and Harry bristles again.

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"It means I think you're gagging for it. How long have you been fantasizing about a cock up your arse? I bet it's been years, even if you don't have the balls to admit it."

 

"You're mental." Harry seems about to say more, but gives an alarmed yelp instead when Draco's hand suddenly snakes out towards him under the covers.

 

"And you're hard as a rock, Potter. Who are you trying to fool? Come on – like you said, there isn't much any of us should need to hide at this point." When Harry just stares at him and remains stubbornly silent, he adds, "I'll throw in a blow job for good measure, too."

 

Harry seems utterly taken aback by the casual offer. "You'd be willing to suck me off?"

 

Draco shrugs again. "I don't see why not. That way, you'll know I won't go around boasting that I fucked you, and you won't spread the news that I sucked your cock. Sounds like a sensible deal to me."

 

"Spoken like a true Slytherin." Tonks is strangely amused by his business-like manner; the whole scene feels more and more surreal to her, and she wonders if reality is going to kick in anytime soon. "Harry, I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. Let's just forget that I ever said anything, all right?"

 

"No, it's fine." Harry has sat up and is staring at Draco defiantly. "Very well, Malfoy. Let's see if you really know what you're talking about."

 

Tonks can't believe she's heard him correctly. "Harry, you really don't have to..."

 

"I said it's fine." His voice is determined and oddly calm; he's not looking at her but at Draco, who doesn't show any signs of surprise. "This better be good."

 

Draco's mouth curls into a sardonic smile. "I'll do my best." Tonks watches in astonishment as he gets up and walks around the bed to lie down next to Harry. Harry immediately turns on his side to face him, and Draco beckons Tonks to move closer.

 

"Since you're so eager for this, help me a bit and prepare him for me, will you?"

 

Tonks snuggles up to Harry's back and leans in to whisper in his ear. "Harry, you're okay with that? I've done it before, I won't hurt you." Harry just nods, and she feels a strange thrill at the idea of getting to do this to him. "Draco, there's some Vaseline in the nightstand drawer."

 

He raises an eyebrow at her as he hands her the little jar, but she just rolls her eyes; it's not as if she keeps the stuff there for anything naughtier than dry hands. Draco shrugs and ducks under the covers; Tonks is a little disappointed at this, but she reckons there'll be enough to watch a bit later. She's usually not very fond of fumbling under the covers, but the idea to do this by touch alone is somehow appealing. Her thoughts are interrupted by a loud gasp from Harry; he reaches out blindly, and she imagines him tangling his fingers in Draco's soft blond hair while Draco's mouth is working on his cock. The thought sends a shiver through her, and she quickly dips her fingers into the jar and presses them between his cheeks. He seems startled, and she brings her lips to his ear again. "Shhh, Harry, it's okay. Just relax, and let me..."

 

He has really nice ears, and Tonks can't resist nibbling at his earlobe a little bit while her fingers slide lower. He gasps again, and she keeps nibbling and sucking as she pushes a fingertip against his entrance, gently working her way inside and pausing every few seconds to let him get used to the feeling. She's done this for several of her former lovers although she always found it a bit disgusting, but now it seems like the most erotic thing she's ever done. He's relaxing now, opening himself up to the intrusion, and Tonks pushes deeper, adding another finger while she kisses and nips her way down from his ear to his jaw. By the time she's reached his neck, Harry's gasps have turned into breathless moans, and then he's coming, his hips jerking forward and his muscles clenching around her fingers inside him.

 

Draco finally flings the covers aside and reappears, hair mussed, face flushed and lips swollen, in Tonks' view; he's wiping his mouth with his hand, but there's still a splatter of come in the corner of it, and she leans towards him over Harry's shoulder and licks it off. It's like she's stepped out of her own skin, leaving all fears, doubts and inhibitions behind; she feels hot and vibrant and alive, and she's breathing almost as hard as the two of them.

 

Harry starts rolling over on his stomach, but Draco's arms immediately come up to pin his shoulders to the bed. "Oh no, Potter, not like this." His voice is low and raspy, but there's an almost fierce expression on his face. "You're going to look at me; I won't let you pretend that it's anyone but me who's fucking you." He pushes Harry's knees apart and kneels between them, then looks at Tonks who has stretched out beside Harry. "Hand me the lube?"

 

"I have a better idea." Within a moment, she's next to him with the jar and wraps her slippery fingers around his cock. He sighs softly when she runs her thumb over the head that's already glistening with precome, but then gently pushes her away. "Stop it, or you'll ruin all the fun for Potter."

 

Tonks lies back again and watches Harry wrap his legs around Draco's waist at his instruction; he's hard again already, or perhaps he never even softened after coming into Draco's mouth. Her rapid pulse sounds incredibly loud in her own ears, so loud that she can barely hear the small, desperate sounds Harry makes when Draco begins to push into him. Draco is going slowly, and she realizes it's the first time that she sees him being gentle and careful. It's both touching and incredibly hot to watch Draco Malfoy, whom she has always considered something of a selfish bastard, take such care with Harry Potter of all people – but not nearly as hot as watching Harry give himself up to it, allowing himself to be taken by someone he's hated for most of his life. Because that's what Harry's doing: he's surrendering completely, head thrown back, eyes closed and arms flung apart. Tonks watches with bated breath and wonders whether Draco has been correct to assume that Harry has wanted this for a long time.

 

She inches closer, eager to witness every movement, every expression on their faces. Draco has settled into a rhythm of small, slow thrusts, and Harry tightens his legs around Draco's waist, following his movements. From her perspective close to Harry's shoulder, Tonks gets a glimpse of his hard cock, and on an impulse, she reaches between them and curls her fingers around it. Her other hand has finally made it down between her own legs, and she begins stroking both herself and Harry in synch with Draco's thrusting. Harry whimpers at her touch, but then whispers, "Yes, oh my God, yesssss..." The word turns into a hiss, followed by a string of strange, sibilant sounds Tonks has never heard before. It takes her a moment before she realizes that he's speaking Parseltongue.

 

Tonks feels a shiver run down her spine; the room suddenly seems to grow colder and the lights dimmer. Something alien and dangerous has entered their sanctuary, a reminder of the darkness Harry has been carrying within himself ever since the night that left him with the scar on his forehead. It fills her with a sick, cold dread that makes her move even closer to him, so that the warmth of his body can remind her he's still the same person he was before and not some dark creature that has replaced the boy she knows and loves.

 

Draco's reaction, however, couldn't be more different from hers. His movements still for a heartbeat when Harry starts hissing, his eyes going wide and his whole body tensing visibly. There's a small sound, almost like a choked sob, coming from him, and then his hips snap forward. He buries himself deep inside Harry, all pretence of gentleness forgotten, and starts fucking him in earnest.

 

Harry's voice grows louder, the hissing sounds filling the room. Draco must be hurting him now, but he shows no sign of pain; his arms come up to grab Draco's shoulders, and it seems to Tonks that he's trying to make him thrust even harder. She quickens the movements of her hand on his cock; he's almost there, but so is Draco, and then Draco bites down, hard, on the spot where Harry's neck meets his shoulder and comes with a muffled groan. Harry screams, his whole body clenching, his nails digging into Draco's skin and his cock spilling warm, thick liquid all over Tonks' hand.

 

Tonks thinks about Harry going into the final battle tomorrow with the marks of Draco's teeth on his neck and sore from Draco's cock inside him, and she finds the thought oddly heartening. She holds on to both of them as they slowly calm down; it's obvious they're finally done for. There are still a few precious hours before the morning they're all dreading, and even if she knows that she won't be able to keep protecting them once the night is over, she takes comfort from the fact that they will be spending it in exhausted, peaceful sleep in her arms.

 

 

+++

 

 

Ten minutes before 9 a.m., Tonks is the last to walk into the kitchen where Shacklebolt's letter is lying on the table. Like the boys, she's dressed in dark, loosely-fitting clothes, her wand within easy reach in a holster that's tied to her thigh. For a moment, the three of them just look at each other, as if they were all aware that there isn't anything left to be said. Then Draco, again the bolder one, grabs her by the upper arms and kisses her just like he first kissed her the night before: harsh and desperate, almost hard enough to bruise, as if he wanted to leave his mark on her skin like he left it on Harry's a few hours ago.

 

Tonks allows herself to melt into the kiss for just a heartbeat before she pulls back and whispers "Good luck" into his ear. Then she turns to Harry, and her heart clenches at the sight of his pale, drawn face, of his shoulders that suddenly don't seem broad to her any more, but much too fragile to carry the weight of a whole world's future. Again, she feels that impotent desire to reach out and hold him, protect him and keep him safe, but before she can move, he has cupped her face in both hands and presses a gentle kiss on her lips. It feels chaste and devoid of passion, more like a benediction than a caress, and she can't help the tears that well up in her eyes from the bittersweet tenderness of it.

 

"Be safe, Harry, and don't forget what I promised you."

 

He nods solemnly, and his expression softens for a moment, but then hardens again as he lets go of her and turns to face Draco.

 

They stare at each other for what seems like forever, while the clock on the wall, overly loud in the sudden silence, ticks away the seconds. Tonks' breath catches in her throat as she looks from one to the other and tries in vain to see any sign of a change between them that the previous night might have brought. They appear just like the two deadly enemies they've always been, with the tension between them almost tangible, and in her mind, she keeps repeating the silent plea _please, please, not like this_ without being sure who she expects to listen to it.

 

Then Draco breaks the impasse by snarling, "Oh, for _fuck's_ sake!" and throwing himself at Harry. He grabs two fistfuls of Harry's hair and pulls him into a kiss that is no less violent than any of their fights Tonks has witnessed. Harry's fingers dig into Draco's shoulders as he responds with equal fervour, as if he were accepting another challenge Draco has flung into his face. They kiss like there's no tomorrow, which may well be true for either of them, and when they finally pull apart, their lips swollen and bloody and their breathing laboured, there's a look in Draco's eyes that Tonks has never seen there before.

 

"Don't you dare get killed, Potter, I'm not nearly finished with you."

 

Harry's eyes narrow, but he doesn't answer. He just gives him a curt, determined nod, and Tonks releases a breath she's been holding without even realizing it. Then the clock begins to strike nine, and their time is up.

 

She looks at them one final time while they all draw their wands and tries to etch the moment into her memory. "I'll see you both when it's over, boys."

 

The corner of Draco's mouth quirks up at this, and Harry actually smiles, the first smile she has seen from him since he fell asleep on her shoulder last night. It makes a small, bright spark of hope flare up inside her, and she holds on to it with all her might as they reach for the Portkey.


End file.
